


i'm the king and you're the queen and we will stumble through heaven

by lostunderthemountain



Series: Your Blood and My Crown [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Arranged Marriage, Attempts at sex, F/M, Female Kíli, Painful Sex, Royal Wedding, Wedding Night, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-05-16 22:32:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5843452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostunderthemountain/pseuds/lostunderthemountain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The marriage contract is agreed on.<br/>Bard travels to Erebor and notes just <em>why</em> his father wants the country so badly.<br/>Kíli worries over the choice she has made in light of Bard's reputation...<br/>And there's a wedding, eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And time for Part Two!  
> ...well, part one of Part Two...

_To His Highness Thranduil, King of the Greenwood, Her Majesty Kíli Queen of Erebor sends her regards,_

_The recent battle between our peoples resulted in nothing but death and the loss of Erebor's King and his Heir._

_As the Queen truly believe neither of our causes will stop the fight, Her Majesty offers a different option._

_Instead of placing Erebor under your own direct rule, the Queen continue to rule as a queen while paying a tithe to you - which shall be confirmed at a later date. However, Her Majesty is willing to take your_   _firstborn as her consort, in an attempt to create peace between our factions._

Bard put the letter down, but avoided his father's eyes.

"Legolas is your firstborn, and he is already wedded," He began, "unless you plan to annul that due to Tauriel's lack of pregnancy in the past year..."

"Legolas is not truly my firstborn, Bard, that honour lies with  _you_." Thranduil interrupted from his seat, "You are not yet wed, despite your... _advanced_ age and you can consider Erebor your own lordship, even if this little bastard queen insists on ruling still." 

 _I don't want a lordship from you. I want to go back to Dale and be with my mother and marry the flower shop girl with golden hair-_ Bard bit his tongue to stop the protests falling from his lips. His father didn't like for people to disagree with him. And he wasn't  _that_ old, he was only three and twenty years...how old was this little queen?

"I shall accept this proposal for you. In two days you shall ride to Erebor and begin to get to know their  _queen._ And the court, I can't imagine that many would be happy with a bastard on the throne..." 

Bard's jaw clenched, but he bowed and left Thranduil to his ruminations...

* * *

"What is his name again?" Smaug asked, rolling in the gold onto his back .

" _Bard_ ," Kíli repeated, taking the crown from her head and shaking her hair out, "He said his mother was a princess of Dale. Surely you must know something, you dragons gossip worse than Bilbo's kin." 

"I am quite offended Your Majesty," Smaug huffed, "I have never gossiped in my long life."

Kíli raised an eyebrow to show her disbelief.

"Are you sure you haven't heard _anything?_ "

The dragon shifted in the gold, almost looking hesitant, if a thousand year creature could feel such a thing. 

"There was one man I heard of that name being connected to Dale...my cousins in the West say that the men there call him _The_ _Dragonslayer_." 

Kíli froze, the crown slipping from her hands to the table (a thankfully  _short_ distance) as she readily assumed the worst.

"Do you think that's why they came here?" the queen asked the dragon cautiously, "Hoping you would be sent out, so he could  _kill_ you and the Erebor would be undefended forever after?" 

"No, many people know that I exist and have lived here since the reign of your great-grandfather, but they also know that I am not a weapon for the king to use - I protect the Princesses of Erebor in return for shelter, that is all." 

"There  _are_ no Princesses of Erebor anymore, you know that." Kíli snorted.

"No but there is a Queen is there not?" 

* * *

 

Bard gripped the reins tighter as he made his way through the streets of Erebor, very aware of some of the looks he was being given by the people.

He still didn't understand  _why_ his father had wanted so desperately to conquer this kingdom. The admittedly abundant farmlands to the West of the walls were quiet small, probably only to supply the farmers and the people of the city while the houses and people of the lower levels seemed plain and simple. It was only after he reached the summit did he realise what his father coveted: 

"Greetings my lord!" An old, white haired man called from the threshold of the large doors of the castle as Bard dismounted. He belt was covered in precious metals and his coat's lapels were studded with _rubies_. The man stood next to him, who was maybe only twenty years younger than him, was wearing shining armour with gold filigree designs on the pauldrons, two very sharp looking axes and significantly less grey hair. Both also had beards.

"Balin, at your service my lord," the older one bowed to Bard when he joined them at the threshold, "And this is my brother, Dwalin." 

Dwalin did _not_ offer his service, merely nodded at him. Bard took a small amount of pleasure in noting that he was taller than both of them (even if only by a few inches in Dwalin's case).

"Her Grace is waiting for you in the throne room, if you will follow us?" Balin raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the inside of the castle. Bard could only nod, hands curling into fists to try to hide the shaking.

The journey to the throne room was hilariously short, only through the entrance chamber and down a short corridor. Bard had a feeling that he would end his way around  _this_ castle much easier than his father's castle. Once again he felt a surge of homesickness for Dale, for the graceful columns that had supported the palace of his uncle, for his mother's rooms, where he had been raised and taught his letters and numbers...

He was brought out of his memories by a grunting noise from Dwalin, which made two guards standing by doors that were just as large as the entrance stand to attention. One knocked on the door and it swung open.

The court of Erebor turned as one to see the future...well, Bard didn't really know what his title would be yet - but he was very sure it wouldn't be  _king_.

The ladies who were all grouped near the throne wore black dresses with brightly coloured sashes over them, as if indicating house colours. Lords of all kinds stood on two sides of the halls, leaving a pathway in between them for him to walk down, making him feel like he was prey surrounded by predators.

Banners hung from the ceiling, all blue and silver depicting anvils, crowns, seven stars and a wolf's head facing forwards, snarling down at them all. 

Kíli was sat on the throne, wearing a different dress, one that was a deep, dark blue and fell down the podium the throne was on. The crown of Erebor was still sat daintily on her head.

It seemed like a normal throne room, but then Bard saw it: the dragon's head by the side of the throne. And it blinked at him.

 _Fuck_.

This was one of those times when Bard regretted his actions.

"Welcome Bard, son of Ingrid of Dale, to Erebor." Kíli called, a smile stretching her lips again, standing and walking down the podium, blue silk trailing after her. He tore his gaze away from the dragon and back to her, bowing slightly when she reached him. The queen looked over him and, despite a raised eyebrow at his [armour](https://thezombieroom.files.wordpress.com/2015/03/dragon-armor.jpg), she seemed to approve of him.

"I thank you and your father for agreeing to this arrangement, that will hopefully in time lead to both peace and prosperity between Erebor and your father's...lands." 

Her face was carefully blank and her tone gave no indication of her true feelings. This was her court face, Bard realised with a sinking feeling. Would he ever truly know her?

"Indeed Your Grace, we are blessed by my father's benevolence, or this union would not be happening." That was true, if Thranduil had been in a more apathetic mood when receiving the queen's letter, they would probably be at war once again.

Kíli's face tensed momentarily.

The courtiers around them whispered.

Bard hoped things would change soon.


	2. Chapter Two

 

Bard looked around the rooms. The carvings around the bed were specifically feminine and there were plenty of soft furnishings. 

“These are generally the Queen Consort’s Rooms, but considering the…unusual circumstances they will be yours until after the wedding.” the Lady Surthi - the fiery redheaded Head of the Royal Household - told him, staring him down in a motherly manner, “Your… father and good-sister are going to send the rest of your things as soon as is possible, but for now I’m sure the royal seamstresses will not mind seeing to some new clothes for you.” 

“Thank you, milady.” Bard ducked his head. The last new clothes he had been given were the leathers and armour he’d been travelling in for the last half year. Surthi quirked an eyebrow before leaving him to ‘settle in’. Bard slouched down onto the bed, sinking into the soft pelts and silks. 

 

* * *

 

“At least he’s handsome,” Surthi reasoned when she and Kíli were ensconced in the King- _Queen’s_ Study. Surthi had just returned from showing Bard his temporary rooms, and she was determined to talk about him, “I mean, he could look like a troll - that would make the bedding harder for sure…”

“Do we really have to talk about this now?” Kíli asked, a hint of a whine entering her voice.

“You don’t think he’s handsome?” Surthi  smirked, “If he wasn’t marrying you I’d ride him like he was the last caravan from Ered Luin.” 

“Don’t let Glóin hear you talk like that.” a flicker of a smirk graced the young queen’s lips. Surthi snorted in a very unladylike manner, but suddenly became serious.

“Kíli…it has been explained to you what will happen on your  wedding night, hasn’t it?”

The younger woman’s cheeks pinked as she began stumbling over her words, insisting that she had an idea of what would happen ( _pain and blood_ , if one listened to the noble ladies of the court, unsurprising when it was considered that Kíli was illegitimate and as such nobody bothered to teach her anything a high born wife would need…most in the court thought that she wasn’t a virgin at any rate). Surthi raised an eyebrow, but the conversation was swiftly turned to the household finances and any talk of the eventual bedding was forgotten.

* * *

 

If Bard had expected anyone to follow him around as he explored the palace (and if he was honest, he’d expected all of the guards to be half a step behind him), it had not been a short, stout redheaded boy who carried around a blunted axe. The boy followed him nearly everywhere, from the moment Bard left his rooms until the boy went to bed - he assumed. 

It all came to a head one morning at the archery grounds. 

Bard had been amazed when he first found them. There were not only targets set up into lanes - the traditional way he’s father’s people used them - but there were targets in high corners - some still with arrows embedded in them - and man-shaped dummies standing at the edges of the room. And…the room was completely empty. As if Erebor had no archers. 

“You’re not supposed t’ be here.” 

The high pitched voice startled Bard out of his focus, sending an arrow off into a dark corner. Turning, he was shocked to find the boy stood behind him, a scowl on his face. 

The Dalish man looked around, then at his bow before raising an eyebrow at a the small redhead.

“I thought this was where the archers were allowed to practise.” He remarked casually. The boy’s scowl deepened. 

“You know what I mean - _bastard_. You’re not welcome in Erebor. Kíli doesn’t really want y-”

“Gimli!” A sharp voice caused the boy to stop his tirade. The pair turned to see the little Queen stood in the doorway. She was wearing another dark blue dress. On this dress, however, there was silver silk interspersed in the skirt and the sleeve cuffs were pulled back to the elbow by silver cord, revealing pale, lily white forearms. Bard felt nearly breathless. 

“Your father is looking for you - something about skipping classes?” Here she raised an eyebrow, “And I thought you’re mother taught you to respect your elders?” 

The boy - Gimli - huffed and puffed as his face turned the same red as his hair before turning and shuffling to the door, grumbling under his breath. Bard raised an eyebrow at his…his betrothed. 

“I’m sorry about Gimli, he’s easily led by his father’s ideals…and _he_ thinks I’m an idiot for considering…” Kíli bit her lip, her amber brown eyes glancing up at him beseechingly.

“I didn’t really expect any different,” Bard assured her, “only…I thought the people following me would be older.” 

The girl giggled, eyes lighting up and for a moment Bard saw what was probably the real Kíli…only for a moment…

“May I ask what you’re doing here, my Lady? I thought that a queen would be swamped in matters of state at this time…” 

“A queen can also chooses when she attends to said matters,” Kíli raised an eyebrow in challenged, “And I’ve missed my archery range.” 

“ _Your_ archery range?” 

“I…my brother had it made for me, for my last birthday…” the girl shrunk into herself, all royal bluster disappearing. Bard felt his breath catch and a lump form in his throat. He and Legolas might not always get along, but now that Bard knew about him he didn’t think that he’d be the same if the younger died. 

“Would…would you like to practise together?” He asked roughly, holding his own bow up. 

A smile fluttered over Kíli’s lips.

“I would like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a terrible person. I meant to update this at least a month ago...but here we are.  
> The next chapter is literally just a wedding and sex, so I thought a filler chapter was appropriate.  
> Please leave a comment!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a horrible person. I hope this makes up for it.

Surthi tapped her quill against her desk in thought. She had received a letter from Bilbo Baggins. Asking if it would be permissible for him to attend the royal wedding that was due to happen the next day. _I know that many see me as too scandalous and immoral in Erebor, but I see that girl as one of my own and I will not miss the most important day of her life_ he had written, his usually neat script becoming surprisingly messy as his emotions clearly got the better of him. 

“Oh sod it.” Surthi muttered, pulling a fresh sheet of parchment in front of her. The lords would complain, but they’d be complaining anyway; the groom was hardly well liked. 

“You know, talking to yourself is supposed to be the first sign of madness.” A sly voice said from one of the chairs by the fire. Surthi snorted.

“And I thought that you were supposed to ask before taking a seat.” She rejoined, raising an eyebrow, “What do you want Nori?” 

“I just thought that you should know that Lord Girjak was seen outside old Dáin’s door again, begging for an audience.” 

“And what did our dear cousin do?” 

“Told him to bugger off, loudly and creatively,” Nori chuckled, standing up and stretching, “I almost felt sorry for Girjak - almost.”

“And what about Stonehelm? Apparently she wasn’t happy that Kíli was put on the throne in place of her father.” 

“Luckily Dáin’s got a close eye on her _and_ is keeping her close.” Nori grinned wickedly, having walked over to the desk was now slouched over some probably important papers on Surthi’s desk, idly playing with one of their knives, “How’s our blushing bride doing anyway.” 

“Nervous, as is usual with first time brides. Fulla is with her though, to make sure that she will get some sleep.”

“She could have it worse - the boy’s not bad looking and seems the decent sort - half the common folk in the markets are already in love with him. The lords may complain about him carrying a dagger around with him, but _they_ carry swords even in council - so they’re just being hypocritical…”

Surthi let Nori continue their ramblings, summoning a page and giving the boy instructions to send her finished letter to the Shire with the fastest raven in the Rookery. 

* * *

 Kíli awoke to the sound of the temple’s bells ringing. They sounded louder in the King’s Rooms than her old ones. The early morning sun shone through the windows and the fire roared merrily - both seeming to mock her fear.

“I thought that a bride was supposed to be happy on her wedding day.” An _oh-so-familiar_ voice spoke up from the (far too decadent) doorway. Kíli’s head snapped up and a smile began to spread across her face.

“Bilbo!” She cried out, flinging the covers back and ran to him, throwing her arms around her shoulders laughing despite the tears that had begun to roll down her cheeks.

“Oh my dear girl it has been far too long,” Bilbo mumbled, cupping Kíli’s face and wiping the tears away with his thumbs, “Far too long.”

“I’ve missed you Mr. Boggins.” the girl mumbled, feeling like a small child who had scrapped their knee again.

“I’ve missed you as well,” Bilbo tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, “Your uncle would be proud of you, _very_ proud.”

Kíli snorted.

“He’d be furious,” She corrected, walking over to the table near the fire where someone had set up a large breakfast for her, “He would prefer me to slit _both_ of the Thranduilions' throats, not marry one of them…and the bastard one at that.” 

"...Yes he probably would prefer that," Bilbo agreed easily, "but you have won peace for your people - _his_  people - and he would be proud of that."

Kíli blushed and looked down at her feet.

"Hurry up and have some food my dear, I'm told that a royal bride doesn't get much of a chance to eat at her own wedding."

* * *

 Bard looked over the clothes a young boy have delivered to his rooms just that morning ( _the clothes that he was going to wear for his wedding_ ). He was sure that he'd never owned clothes so...ornate before in his life. The black trousers and white undershirt seemed simple at first glance, but they were softer than the ones he'd left Dale with. The long sleeved doublet was a rich red with golden decorations ( _and he was willing to bet real money that the thread was made out of real gold_ ).

...Red and gold were Dale's colours, however, and Bard had always been forbidden from wearing them considering that he was illegitimate. Although the Queen ( _his soon to be WIFE_ ) wore the silver and blue of Erebor, so maybe the rules were different here. Although...he'd half expected to be wearing the forest green of the Greenwood...

"It's not going to bite you y'know," A cheery sounding voice said from the door, "Or poison you - you're much more valuable alive." 

Instinct had Bard reaching for his dagger and throwing it before the person had finished speaking. When he saw that it was one of the Queen's ( _his bride's_ ) advisors (the one with the funny hat) he paled and felt sick to the stomach. 

"Impressive reflexes as well - that's good to know." The man continued, not at all phased by the knife that was wobbling by his head. Bard felt his ears begin to heat up.

"What are you doing here?" He asked gruffly, finally reaching for the doublet.

"Our lady Queen sent me to check on you - Either because she's actually worried about you or because she didn't want another person fussing over her." He took off his hat and twirled it in his hands, "Knowing Kíli it's probably both..."

Bard hummed absentmindedly. The Queen (wife) seemed to be placing an awful amount of trust in him. If she was the one without allies and alone in his father's kingdom; Thranduil would have ensured a whole patrol of guards were surrounding her rooms to make sure she didn't escape. 

"Also, I want to tell you something," the man continued, "I know you're probably up to you're eyeballs in threats but I want to make this clear. That girl is not like any you'll meet in Erebor or Dale, so if you follow your father's example I want you to keep it quiet - Kíli won't be able to take that kind of betrayal." 

"I am not my father." Bard insisted. Yet all he was greeted with was silence, and wasn't that damning? 

* * *

 Kíli squeezed her hands in fists to try to hide the shaking. Her new husband ( _husband_ ) slammed the door to the King's Rooms, a fierce scowl upon his face. 

"What were they thinking?" He snarled, "Talking about stripping you _naked_ in front of a crowd. As if you were a common whore. As if you aren't their _Queen_." 

Kíli swallowed heavily. 

"It is a time honoured tradition of our people-" 

Bard snorted. 

"It's a foolish tradition." He insisted, turning to face her, "I refuse to have my wife humiliated like that." 

A heavy silence fell over them. Kíli glanced around the room, desperately looking for something to talk about. 

"Would you like some wine my lord?" She asked, already moving towards where she knew the serving women had put some bottles of wine when she felt a hand close around her wrist.

"Bard," he responded smiling slightly when she frowned, "my name is Bard, I'd prefer that you call me by it." 

He pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers, deepening the kiss and sliding a hand through her hair when she whimpered and leaned into him. Kíli tensed up when she felt him begin to pick at the laces of her dress. 

"I can get a maid to do that." She insisted, pulling away from him. He chuckled and pulled her back. 

  
“What happens in this room, in that bed, remains between us, understand? No one else needs to concern themselves with it or get themselves involved, alright?” He tilted her chin up and press a kiss to her lips, slowly swiping his tongue over them and making her moan whilst his hands busied themselves with the laces again.

Bard carefully pulled her clothes away, piece by piece until the little queen ( _his little wife_ ) was stood in a white shift that fluttered against her shins with a neckline that drooped far down her chest. 

"Go lie on the bed." He whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple before pulling away to fumble over the buttons of his doublet. Bard knew, really, he had no right to be nervous. It wasn't like he was losing _his_  maidenhead at this point. But he supposed a wedding night was different than a drunken coupling in a tavern room. He sighed and pulled off his undershirt and turned to face the bed again. 

Kíli was sat in the middle of the bed, fiddling with the bedsheets. Bard smiled sadly.

"My lady." He began, "If at any point you want to stop, just let me know."

The Queen looked down.

"I think it is only fair that you call me Kíli, Bard." 

He had to kiss her for that. Whatever he felt for her, it wasn't hate - at the very least. 

Bard pushed her down on the bed, sliding his hands up her thighs and pushing her shift up to her waist. She whimpered when he began to rub at her clit, and the soft whimpers were soon making him reach for the laces of his breeches. He palmed at his cock as his mouth moved to her neck and slide one then two fingers inside her. Kíli's breathy gasps and pinked cheeks made Bard rush. He pulled her hips up against his and pushed his cock in, grunting as he did. 

Kíli cried out, tensing and jerking her hips, tears welling in her eyes. Bard cursed and pulled out, cringing at the blood. 

"I'm sorry." He whispered, falling down onto the bed beside her and pulled the bed clothes over her, "I'm so, so sorry Kíli, I forgot myself. Forgive me." 

"N-No, it's alright it's supposed to be-" Kíli stammered, not looking him in the eye. 

"It's not supposed to hurt you." He cupped her face, forcing her to look at him, "I should have been more careful." He stroked her cheek, "Sleep now, we can try again another night - we have a lifetime of them together now."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex is awkward okay? Especially when you don't know each other that well.

**Author's Note:**

> Ta-Dah!  
> I hope you liked it - it felt a bit choppy when I was writing it...
> 
> Please review! xx


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